


That Very Fine Line

by Perpetual Motion (perpetfic)



Category: Law & Order
Genre: M/M, post-ep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-05
Updated: 2010-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-07 01:07:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/59717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perpetfic/pseuds/Perpetual%20Motion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-ep for 19.4, just as they get on the elevator.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Very Fine Line

**Author's Note:**

> Post-ep for 19.4, because, given Jack's complete shut down of Mike's plans, how could I not?

“I’m buying you a drink,” Jack tells Mike as the elevator doors close.

“I’ll pass.”

“No, you won’t.”

Mike’s glare is worthy of a picture, Jack thinks. “Yank my leash all you want in the courtroom, Jack, but I won’t be coerced into having a drink with you.”

“Fifteen-year-old Scotch,” Jack offers. “And a thirty dollar steak.”

Mike watches the numbers over the elevator door light up. He switches his briefcase to his other hand as the doors open. “Have a nice night, Jack.”

Jack steps out of the elevator behind Mike and watches him walk away. “Good night, Mike.”

*

Mike orders a sub, opens a beer, and leaves his tie on the back of the couch. “Shit,” he says to the air and tries to find the remote. He finds it at the same time the visitor buzzer goes off. “Yeah?”

“Sub.”

“Come on up.” Mike presses the button to unlock the outside door and puts the remote on the coffee table. He opens the door before the sub guy can knock. Jack is standing in the hallway, Mike’s sandwich in one hand, a bottle of Scotch in the other.

“Sub guy,” Jack says with a grin.

“Bastard,” Mike says, but leaves the door open when he turns around. “If that Scotch is a day under fifteen, you get to leave.”

“Twenty-year,” Jack responds and walks to the kitchen to open the bottle. He pours two fingers into two tumblers and carries them over to the couch. “Might only be nineteen-and-a-half.” He watches Mike sip his Scotch. “I’m your boss.”

“I know that.” Mike puts down his tumbler and pulls his sandwich from the bag. “You scare the sub guy?”

“I tipped him better than you would have.” Jack smiles a little when Mike hands him half the sandwich. “Thanks.”

“Sure.” Mike takes a bite, chews, and swallows. “Are you here as my boss?”

“No.”

“Then I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Mike—”

“I’m pissed off at my boss for making me look like a chump in open court.”

“You were being a chump.”

There’s silence. Mike finishes his Scotch. “They’re going to mutilate their child, Jack. They’re going to tear out the parts they don’t like and force her to stay an angel.”

“She doesn’t have the capacity to know what’s happening to her, Mike. All she’s going to know when she starts having her period is that no matter how hard she tries, she messes herself all day, every day, for a week. You want the kid to go through that?”

“You agree with the parents,” Mike gets up and pours himself another Scotch.

“I agree with the judge.”

“Who agreed with the parents.”

“Who have a right to make decisions about the care of their child if those decisions don’t harm her.”

“Unnecessary surgery is harmful.”

Jack gets off the couch and walks up behind Mike at the counter. He reaches around him to grab the Scotch. “That’s not a judicial argument.”

“Shut up,” Mike says quietly. “Drink your Scotch, eat half of my sandwich, and if you don’t offend me by the end of that, I might let you stay the night.”

“It was legally wrong, Mike.”

Mike stares into his glass. “I know that.” He slugs his Scotch and hisses as it burns down his throat. “I hate it sometimes.”

“What?”

“That you’re my boss.”

Jack presses his forehead against the back of Mike’s head and breathes in deep. “Me too.”

They stand at the counter for a few minutes, barely moving, Jack’s breath ruffling Mike’s hair. Mike pushes away his tumbler and rocks back on his heels to make Jack back up. “Movie?”

“Sure.” Jack stops Mike before he gets away and kisses him softly, cupping his cheek and dragging a hand down his back. “If you’d rather we not keep—”

Mike laughs, slightly dirty. “You wish you could get rid of me so easily.”

“I don’t,” Jack says.

Mike smiles a little. “Good.” His smile gets a little wider. “Same to you.”

“I’ll take it.”


End file.
